


Like Riding a Bike

by Tigris



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Consultant Tony, F/M, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mechanic Tony, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Runaway Tony, Tony has a family, Work In Progress, eventual Steve/Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:04:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tigris/pseuds/Tigris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>***ON HIATUS! This story is not abandoned. Please pay attention to the author's note at the beginning!***</p><p>When Edwin Jarvis died, Tony ran away from home. He was young and it was hard, but he made it.</p><p>He never took over Stark Industries, he never had to live through Afghanistan and he never built the Iron Man suit. Instead he settled down in a small town in North Carolina, married, had kids and took over his father-in-law's garage.</p><p>But the Avengers are still in dire need of some competent tech support... And who knows? Just because certain things haven't happened yet, who is to say they never will?</p><p>After all, Tony Stark <em>is</em> Iron man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Riding a Bike

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first in a lot of ways:
> 
> 1\. It's the first thing I've ever wrote and actually posted somewhere  
> 2\. It's the first thing I've ever tried to write in English, which is not my first language  
> 3\. It's my first Avengers thing.
> 
> It's a work in progress and I don't have much more than a vague idea of where it may go. Which means I'm kind of making it up as I go and updates may take a while.
> 
> Please bear with me and thank you for reading :)
> 
> Edit (June 13, 2015):  
> ***ON HIATUS***  
> I'm sorry everyone, I know I just started this story and I promised the new chapter weeks ago. Thing is, something came up that took up literally ALL my time - I'm going backpacking this summer, starting today!  
> I won't be back until mid-october and I don't take a laptop or something with me, so I won't continue writing until I'm back. I'm so sorry, the next chapter has been almost done for weeks now, but I just didn't have the chance to finish it. BUT THIS STORY IS NOT ABANDONED! I have a whole plot and everything and I DO plan on writing this story when I'm back.  
> I'm really, really sorry!
> 
> I did fix some grammar and spelling mistakes and changed some wording of the first chapter, though (the content is still the same of course). You can now read the new version.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn why the story went differently

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Past character death, alcohol abuse, child abuse, spanking of a child by their parent

Anthony Stark was twelve years old when Edwin Jarvis died.

He was at boarding school at the time, like he always was, and didn’t even know that Jarvis had died for almost three month. All of a sudden, the letters just stopped and when he tried to call no one picked up the phone. It wasn’t until Christmas that year, when he came to the New York mansion for the holidays that he would know.

He came into the house, put his bag away in the old room he lived in until he was six years old and still slept in whenever he was there for a visit and went straight to the kitchen. Because the kitchen always was the place Jarvis waited for him, baking cookies or a cake to welcome him “home”, even though at that point the mansion hadn’t been Tony’s home for more than six years.

Tony had been so angry at the butler, for never returning any phone calls, not answering to his letters anymore, just leaving him alone at that god-awful school he hated so much. He was used to being ignored by his parents, but not by Jarvis, never by Jarvis.

Jarvis was always there for him.

But when he came into the kitchen it was empty. Usually it wouldn’t be that strange. Lunchtime was over and it was still a few hours until the chef would come back to start preparing dinner. At any other, normal day, no one would be using the kitchen right now, except maybe to get a little snack in between meals.

But Jarvis always waited for Tony in the kitchen the day he came back from school. Baking cookies or a cake. Smiling that smile that warmed Tony from the inside every time and cheerfully saying “Welcome home, Master Anthony!”, because he would forever refuse to just call him “Tony”.

Jarvis wasn’t in the kitchen.

Tony searched through the whole house for the butler, looked in every room, but couldn’t find him anywhere. It was possible that he was on an errand and wouldn’t be back until later. But if that was the case, why would no one he asked about Jarvis’s whereabouts tell him? Why would they all just look at him sadly and tell him to “better talk to Mr. and Mrs. Stark about this, would you Master Anthony?”

But his father was on a business trip, like he always was, and his mother was in their room, “resting and not to be disturbed”, like she always was.

So after it was clear that Tony wouldn’t be able to find Jarvis in the house and he realized that no one would tell him where else the man could be, he tried to calm himself down for the moment. Howard should be back tomorrow afternoon. Tony would ask him then. Or maybe Jarvis would be back by that time as well. Maybe Jarvis had to accompany his father this time. It happened before.

If Howard had fired Jarvis, Tony was going to kill him, he swore.

But Howard didn’t came back until four days later – one day after Christmas – and Jarvis wasn’t back by then and Howard hadn’t fired him.

Because Jarvis was dead.

It was a heart attack, his father told him.

When Howard had come home he went for the liquor cabinet first and for his private workshop second. Tony had followed him there as soon as he was told his father was back.

Now he was standing in front of Howard, inside Howard’s workshop, a place Tony was _not supposed to be_ , which his father reminded him of with a slap to his face the moment he sat foot over the threshold without being invited in. And standing in front of Howard, inside Howard’s workshop, with Howard’s bottle already one-quarter empty and Howard’s handprint stinging on his cheek, Tony demanded answers.

It was a heart attack. No one knew why. He was perfectly healthy. It came out of nowhere. One morning, he just didn’t wake up. “Things like this just happen sometimes, Tony.”

Jarvis was dead.

The funeral had been in October.

And Tony didn’t know until almost three month later.

Their conversation went downhill pretty quickly right from the beginning.

Tony was hurting and screaming and throwing stuff and just _hurting so much and how could this ever be true how could Jarvis be just gone and leave him behind this wasn’t fair this wasn’t fair!_

And Howard was drunk and annoyed and _pissed_ at his son, throwing a tantrum like that, what was he, a baby or a man, _god dammit_ _Tony stop it right now you’re too old for this!_

And maybe, just maybe, Howard was hurting too. Just a little. Hurting for his son. Hurting, because his son, his incredible, smart, beautiful little boy was hurting so, _so much_ , over the loss of the one person who had always been there for him, the one person who had been that much more than just a butler, who had been a friend, an older brother, a _parent_ … The one person, who had been a much better father to Tony than Howard could ever hope to be.

Maybe realizing that fact made Howard a little too angry, and maybe he already had drunk a little too much of that bottle. Maybe he directed his anger in the wrong direction, and maybe this wasn’t the first time that had happened.

He maybe shouldn’t have hit Tony. He maybe shouldn’t have pulled down his pants and underwear and thrown him over his knees. He maybe shouldn’t have spanked Tony after he had already hit him twice in the face and shoved him into the table and kicked him into the stomach when he fell to the floor, right before dragging him up again by one ear.

Maybe he shouldn’t have, but Howard still spanked his son’s ass and thighs until they glowed in a deep red and the boy wouldn’t be able to sit for the next few days, because if Tony behaved like a baby he would be treated like one and also he’d better stop crying right then or there would be another one coming tomorrow, Howard swore to God...

Stark men don’t cry. They have iron in their backbones.

Yes, maybe Howard shouldn’t have done all these things. Maybe if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have lost his son.

Tony didn’t wait for the start of the spring semester, but went back to school a few days later. As soon as he had been able to sneak into his parent’s bedroom one morning when his father was at work. As soon as he had been able to steal a glance at his sleeping mother, whom he hadn’t seen or talked to in months. He sat by her side for a little while, stroking her cheek without waking her.

Then he tiptoed into the bathroom and stole some of his mother’s make-up to cover the remaining bruises on his face, so no one would ask questions he didn’t want to answer.

When Tony left he didn’t look back.

For a few months Tony pretended to be alright, pretended to live on like he always did. No one assumed that anything was wrong, but secretly Tony planned what had to be planned and arranged what had to be arranged, while he locked the pain over losing his most trusted person away in his heart. He saved up as much money in cash as he could without his father noticing, which was still _a lot_ for a twelve-year-old-boy, even if that boy grew up rich.

By the time spring break came and the students were to return home once more, Tony was gone.

Everything he needed was packed up in a backpack and a duffle and vanished together with him. He just got up one morning and left. No one knew where to or how. No one noticed until it was too late. There was no trace to be followed. No record or lead that showed up for the weeks and months to come, which would have helped his parents and the authorities to find him.

He may have been young at the time, not even thirteen years old, but he was smart and he had money and he could outwit anyone that may came looking for him.

Howard and Maria Stark never saw their son again.

Edwin Jarvis was gone and so was Anthony Stark.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments would be very much appreciated :)


End file.
